Easy Target
by genvessel
Summary: And I'm pissed off at myself for letting them push me around. I guess I'm just an easy target. Sam POV


Title: **Easy Target**  
Author: Kristen   
Genre: General POV - Sam  
Disclaimer: negative on the ownership  
Spoilers: season 2  
Note: I was watching _The Drop In_ and I got a little pissed, can you tell? Very honestly, some of the thigns Sam says about Bartlet in here are the things I felt. When everything was intially going down, it was a little hard to swallow. Not as hard to swallow, of course, as the 5th and 6th seasons, but that's for another time... R/R

xxxxx

I am not a child.

I am a graduate of Princeton University and I was almost named partner by the second biggest law firm in New York. I serve as the Deputy Communications Director to the President of the United States and am damn good at it.

And yet my colleges are under the impression that they can push me around like the proverbial playground bully.

That was my speech. Mine.

I subjected my staff to twelve drafts in order to perfect it. I hand delivered the President an enthusiastic standing ovation. And yet, just because it didn't make Toby happy, I got screwed.

He's treating me like some fourth-grade rookie who has no idea what he's doing. I may have not been in politics as long as Toby has, but I've been in the White House for as long as he has and we're not in our freshman year anymore! That was my speech and they deliberately left me out of the loop.

Damn them.

There are things that I am meant to be left out of the loop on and I'm ok with that. For instance, I have no right to know the inner workings of the Situation Room. I don't have code-word clearance and quite frankly don't want it. After that little incident with Stephanie Gault a while back, I want to be as far away from NSA matters as possible.

But the GDC speech was mine from beginning to end. Someone finally let me make a decision around here without running to Toby for permission and he gets his panties in a twist and screws me over. He just couldn't take it, could he? Couldn't stand that Sam Seaborn was one up on him, could he? He couldn't just let me do my fucking job, could he! Could he!

They should have told me.

Of course, Toby was the first to know. Leo said that he figured it out. That couldn't be because he was looking for it, now would it?

Someone should have told me long before they did.

But, then again, the President should have told us all from off the bat.

The legal ramifications from the cover-up are astounding. I filled twelve pages on my computer, just to get the thoughts out of my head, and then promptly deleted them. But, still, that's twelve pages of problems just off the top of my head and I haven't done serious litigation in four years.

I'm not sure whether to hate Toby or to love him. He is the most amazing writer I've ever met. His words send chills down my spine and tears to my eyes. But he also makes my blood boil with his blatant disregard for common courtesy.

The President has called us all, on many occasions, statesmen. The way Toby behaves sometimes is not the way statesmen behave, it's the way children behave. Going behind backs is something that politicians do and I joined this campaign because I thought Jed Bartlet was above politics.

It seems that I was wrong.

They say a good man can't get elected President. For three years now, I've been basking in the knowledge that we proved them wrong. Although, I'm not entirely sure who "they" are, "they" seem to be right. For when the President consciously chose to lie, he traded in the title of "good man" for "politician." He will be sacrificed on the altars of public opinion. He will be crucified on the crosses of the world's press.

And we're all going down with him.

The thing that breaks my heart is that the lie my father told and the lie the President told are both self-gratifying lies, but they're so different. I've chosen to believe that the President chose to lie to protect us all. He chose not to tell the American people so that they'd let him run their county and he didn't tell us because he didn't want us to get bogged down in all of this crap.

A part of me has spent the past few hours questioning him. Questioning how well I really know him and if I know him well enough to continue to say, "I serve at the pleasure of the President." If he's lied about this, what else has he got in his back pocket that we should know about? How much can I trust him now? I've had two fathers in my life. Both have screwed with my heart. Which one do I forgive? Both? One? Neither?

He infuriates me.

But I will fight for this man until I die, that I know.

I really don't know much about politics, but I've learned a lot in the past three and a half years. And from everything I've seen and everything I know in my heart of hearts, Josiah Bartlet is the real thing.

In the middle of all of this political shit, I know that he's the real thing. I know that if we ever get around to doing some real governing in this building, the country will be blown away.

Toby needs to back down. He needs to let me do the job that he's hired me to do.

And he needs to stop with those damn rubber balls. 

We've all got beef.

The President's beef right now is with Oliver Babbish and, I'm betting, the First Lady.

Leo's is with himself. It always is.

Josh's is with the Christian Right and the Germans. The President blames the Swedes for the fall of the Roman Empire and Josh blames the Nazi's for the fall of his family to the horrors of the Holocaust.

Toby's is with everyone that looks a little disturbing to him and won't let him get what he wants.

CJ's is with the press that demands an explanation for everything when there's really not much that is their business.

Mine? Mine is with Toby. Just because I've been dwelling on him lately, but the list can be expanded dramatically. My father for being a jackass, Laurie for being a prostitute, Mallory for being, well, Mallory, and Lisa for leaving me.

And with myself for letting them beat me up.

I guess I'm just an easy target.


End file.
